I'll Be There For You
by rackfocus
Summary: Gil Grissom wasn't always alone.
1. Chapter 1

PROLOGUE:

"I can't deal with this shit!"

"Mike, he is just slightly autistic the doctor says. Just slightly."

"No, this is bullshit! I've got a deaf wife and a retarded son! Did I pick the short straw or something?"

The tiny ant scrambled up and down the four year-old boy's tiny arm, frantically trying to find a way off. The curly-haired little boy crouched on the ground in the space between the front steps and a rose bush in the garden, watching it intently. The red front door to the house was open and the parents' argument floated through the doorway and to the boy's hiding place.

"I'm not deaf, Mike, I'm going deaf, and I am so damned sorry you got stuck with a shitty family!"

His mother's normally soft voice had risen a few octaves to a high shrill as she defended herself and her son. Silence fell for a moment. But only for a moment.

"I'm out of here," the boy's father said so softly the boy could barely hear it.

"Mike. Don't," his mother whispered equally as soft.

Silence ensued once more. The little boy gently picked the little ant off of his arm and placed it back on the ground, where it scurried to get back on the chemical track the other ants had laid from their hill to the piece of apple the little boy had nestled in the dirt. He imagined the little ant was heading back home to his parents who were not fighting over something as trivial as the ant's size or anything of that sort. It wasn't the ant's fault he was smaller than the other ants. A loud bang ripped the little boy from his thoughts as his father burst out of the house and hit the edge of his suitcase on the metal railing of the porch.

"Shit!"

The little boy watched his father intently from his hiding space behind the bush as he hobbled toward his car, balancing a suitcase between his hip and arm as he dug in his pocket for his keys.

He opened the car door violently and threw his two suitcases inside. Thrusting his right leg in, he began to shove the rest of his broad physique into the car when he stopped and stared at the bush where the little boy was hiding. Curiously, the little boy had no desire to call out to his father, or to run after him. His father knew he was there, and the boy knew his father knew, but he made no movement that would betray his hiding place. He just stared into his father's blue eyes, waiting for him to break their skewed eye contact. Finally, the father did, and roared off down the street.

The little boy turned his attention back to the little ant. It was no longer there. It had disappeared into the hill already. The boy gave a small sigh of disappointment.

"Gil."

The little boy looked up at the whisper of his name. A small, innocent smile drew across his face and he gently pulled himself from behind the bush, and walked up the stairs. He paused for a moment, then wrapped his arms around his mother's waist. She closed her eyes and stroked his brown curls. After a moment, she gently pulled him away.

"Would you like me to teach you sign language?"


	2. Chapter 2

AUTHOR'S NOTE: I do not own anything having to do with CSI. Maybe one day…

I've been wanting to write a fanfic for awhile. Never really had the time… So first one! Reviews are always appreciated; positive or negative.

I have tried to "research" all I can, but I am human and fallible.

ENJOY!

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Kate twiddled her thumbs nervously. Perhaps leaving Louisiana had not been the best idea. She hated the heat, yet she chose to go to school in a state equally as hot to the one she had left. She slipped into thoughts of how cool New York is around this time of the year when the door opened to the lecture hall and in strode a tall, dark haired man. The loud class hushed when the door slammed behind him, and he looked up at the class with an almost embarrassed look and cleared his throat gently.

"Excuse me," he said in a voice slightly higher than a whisper.

He made his way over to the high table that served as an instructor's podium and gently set down a canvas bag. Reaching in, he withdrew a black binder and flipped through it wordlessly. For a few moments, the class watched him closely, waiting for him to begin. When he didn't, soft whispers began to rise throughout the room. Kate took that time to study the young man. He appeared to be in his late twenties, and he had an amusing way of furrowing his brow and wrinkling his nose as he shifted through the papers that made Kate smile. She had just begun studying the way his dark, curly hair laid haphazardly on top of his head when he looked up abruptly, making Kate jump out of her thoughts, and slightly out of her seat.

"My name is Gil Grissom," he said. "Dr. Abrahams had an appointment he had to attend to and asked me to do a guest lecture." He shuffled the papers from the binder absentmindedly, then abandoned them on the table and walked around to the front of it.

"I graduated from UCLA about…" he cocked his head to one side, "six years ago." He crossed his arms and leaned back against the table in an effort to look laid-back. His obvious lack of experience at being laid-back made the effort uncomfortable, and Kate grinned as he shifted nervously. He cleared his throat again.

"After graduating, I got a job with the LA's coroner's office. Uh, but before I went to school, I did some unofficial internship type work with the coroner's office."

The lecture passed quickly for Kate, which was unusual. Most of her professors were very dry, and Mr. Grissom was definitely dry. But there was something about the passion he put into the subject that helped keep Kate's attention. She responded with smiles when he attempted to joke and nods when he recanted an interesting story. She had to force herself to let her gaze rest anywhere other than on Grissom's face when she realized she was bordering on creepy. She silently thanked her obsessive habit of sitting in the front row as she studied his blue eyes and the cute way his brow furrowed when he was recalling a bit of information. His eyes radiated a sense of loneliness and sadness that made Kate feel deeply for him. Before he was halfway into his lecture, Kate knew she would have to make the effort to meet him. When the class began to shift and put their notes away, Grissom noticed the universal student "bell" and began to wrap his lecture up, finishing his story about cockroaches and their various uses in society. Kate stood and walked the few feet from her desk to the instructor's podium where he stood as he shoved the unused papers back into the black binder, and then the black binder into the canvas bag.

"Excuse me," Kate said.

Grissom turned at the sound of her voice and stared at her, surprised.

"Mr. Grissom," she began," my name is Kaitlyn Reilly. Your lecture was really interesting."

"Really?" Grissom said with a smile. "You like entomology?"

She returned the smile.

"Not particularly. Bugs kind of give me the creeps. I mean…I think they are fascinating when it comes to forensics. And they are extremely beneficial…"

Grissom smiled and shoved his hands in his pockets, waiting for her to continue.

"Anyway, I was wondering if you'd like to get a cup of coffee or something so I can pick your brain about, you know, the coroner's officer and entomology."

"Oh, so you like the body aspect of forensics?" Grissom asked.

Kate paused and shook her head slightly.

"Uh, no, actually…" she paused again, and struggled to keep the conversation going when a confused expression brushed over his visage. "I like the evidence aspect. I like the chemistry and physics and such."

Grissom nodded.

"Coffee sounds good," he replied tentatively. He had never been asked out before and was unsure of how to react. She moved toward the door, and he picked up his bag and flung it over his shoulder as he followed her out of the classroom.

Once outside the class, Kate stopped and stared at him. He stared back.

"I don't actually know where any coffee places are around here," she admitted, giving him a small smile. "I'm a freshman from out of state."

Grissom nodded wordlessly and motioned for her to follow him. They walked without conversation for a few blocks to a small café nestled in the back of the monolithic UCLA library.


End file.
